One of my grandfathers died when I was little, but I was privileged to have had three grandparents, actively and lovingly participating in my life well into my adulthood. Two of them lived long enough to become great-grandparents. I lost my last living grandparent earlier this year. He was ninety-seven. But not an old ninety-seven. But rather a witty, knows-your-name-plus-the-names-of-every-one-of-his-childhood-friends, sharp mind, but ailing body, kind of ninety-seven. This weekend my family spread his ashes, and my grandma’s too (he kept her ashes so they could be together again one day). My parents were there. And aunts and uncles and cousins too. I regret that I wasn’t able to make the cross-country trip to help honour them. I am grateful though that I was able to see my grandpa one last time. My daughter and I visited him last spring. It was a special visit. I knew it would be the last. When I told people my grandpa had died, many were surprised, saying, “Wow. You still have grandparents?” My grandma Fraser died suddenly and unexpectedly in her mid seventies. I don’t think my grandpa ever quite got over the loss. He lived independently for nearly two decades after she had[…]

If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands. What, no clapping? Aren’t you happy?! Well, don’t let that make you sad because not many of us are consistently happy. According to the studies anyway. Science has us pegged as a sad sack of SOBs just trying to make it until cocktail hour. My daughter however, she’s perpetually happy. She gleefully claps her hands all the time for no apparent reason. It’s like a happiness explosion where her joy just can’t be contained and the sudden burst of happy claps is a way to let it out. I consider myself a very happy person, but I can’t say I feel “happiness explosion happiness” in adulthood very often. But alas, nobody is as happy as Avery. She doesn’t fit the typical mould. She doesn’t worry. She doesn’t know fear. And there’s zero hate in this kid’s world. It just doesn’t exist for her. I’d say she’s 90 per cent happy—9 per cent ‘meh’, when she’s tired or told, “No, you can’t host a play date right now.” And 1 per cent legitimate sorrow, usually when she’s missing a loved one. The rest of the time, bliss. I get the sense[…]

My hormones are wonky. Not in a cute, “Aw, she tears up at the idea of baby bunnies” way, but in a “Settle down shrew. I AM NOT breathing too loud, I’m just… breathing! Jesus.” sort of way. Apparently a few days a month Lisa leaves the building and a satanic, salt sucking, chocolate guzzlin’ troll takes her place. Last night for example, I was having a pleasant discussion with my spouse. One minute we were two adults chatting, laughing even—the next, the poor man said something I didn’t agree with so I spun on my heel and whipped opened the cupboard and grabbed a package of chocolate chips. I shoved a mittful into my mouth and fumed until I was ready to continue the conversion. What hell is this? If this is perimenopause, what is full-blown menopause going to be like? I am sincerely concerned. I’ve had this discussion with hordes of girlfriends and we’re all on the same page. Collectively we’re a happy, gregarious group who upon occasion and somewhat dependent upon the tides, can suddenly transform into something else—something dark and startlingly emotional. Add in a dose of insomnia (also associated with whacky hormones) and resulting sleep[…]

I love snuggling up beside our gas fireplace during the winter. It’s the coziest. However, ever since the incident when our daughter backed up into the hot glass and scorched her leg, the unit has sat cold and flameless. Avery is now nine and she understands the concept of “danger” and “don’t touch that” and “it’s hot” so it’s safe to turn the gas back on and fire it up! When we flipped the switch this season, nothing happened. It’s was all very anti-climatic. My husband examined the fireplace innards which involved head scratching, random grunting noises, followed by some cursing—fun to watch, but not effective in terms of igniting my flame. My man is a lot of awesome things. A fireplace repairman is not one of them. On this quest for fire I hired a company take a look. The service guy arrived promptly and was polite and seemed efficient. He removed a decade’s worth of nasty spider webs and crud from the fireplace and cleaned the glass on the door. I paid for him to do this not knowing how easy it is to do myself. Dammit. He claimed the pilot assembly part was corroded and pointed to[…]

You are getting married tomorrow!! Holy *$%#!! Yesterday you were just a little thing, sitting on your big cousin’s lap… my tweed-gaucho-pant-lap. Let’s not even discuss the neon Aztec print sweater and banana clipped spiral perm. And now you’re all grown up, soon to be a bride. It breaks my heart that I’m not going to be there, Kels. But you know how thrilled we are for you and we’ll wing our way there one day. So put a shrimp on the barbie and have a few roos and crocs on standby for our arrival. I’m over the moon that both you and your sis have found such amazing partners—I couldn’t have handpicked better for you—kind, funny as hell, outdoorsy, super handsome—these guys are the full package. And it goes without saying how lucky they are to have found you. While we may not be there in person to watch you walk down the aisle, we’re cheering you on with so much joy and excitement as you venture down this life path—such a sweet path paved with so much love. And with that, here are a few words about this life contract called marriage—from my experience anyway. 1. Grandma Fraser[…]

Have you seen Crazy Dog Walking Lady? Oh wait, there she is. *sees own reflection in a car window as she’s pulled along by a pack of dogs itching to get on with their morning pee* We have two dogs. Well, more like one and half since one small dog + one smaller dog add up to one whole dog with some extra fur left over. For the past month we’ve also had a guest dog. Her name is Jazz but we like to call her “Jazz Paws” while doing Jazz Hands in the air. She just stares at us blankly. Dogs clearly don’t understand Broadway references (unless you’re referring to the musical Cats. they love/hate that one). Now that I’m seeing this photo up close, I have to say Jazz looks a tad “taxidermied.” She’s actually quite lively in person canine. Too lively even—this girl requires four walks a day. That’s a lot for a lazy bitch like me (not a curse word in dogspeak by the way). It’s impossible to teach dogs to use the toilet Jazz also refuses to use the yard. To date, nary a droplet of her pee has graced our lawn. So even[…]

Hello chimichurri sauce. Where have you been all my life? We first met at a restaurant and you had me at the first savoury mouthful. Then I made you at home and put you on my chicken breasts. (That sounds wrong somehow, but at least I didn’t say pork loins!). Then I spread you on a warm loaf of garlic bread and introduced you to my girlfriends at Games Night. You made us swoon. You’re one little hottie of an appetizer, but it’s also possible that I got slightly carried away with the red chili pepper flakes… Chimichurri Garlic Bread Ingredients: garlic bread loaf, homemade or store bought 2 cups fresh parsley and/or cilantro 6 cloves of garlic (more or less depending on how garlicky you like it) 1/4 of a small red onion 1/2 cup olive oil splash of red wine vinegar (optional) 1 tablespoon lime or lemon juice kosher salt red chili pepper flakes, to taste diced fresh tomato 1 ripe avocado, cubed Method: Pulse garlic and onion in food processor until finely chopped. Add parsley and/or cilantro, and pulse briefly. Transfer to a mixing bowl and add the olive oil, lime/lemon juice, vinegar and stir. Season[…]

I am NOT a Foodie. But I do love food, and taking pictures of food, and exploring new recipes, and collecting/hording beautiful cookbooks, and Vining clips of meals in the making, and sharing photos of the food I’ve made, and…holy Havarti, I may be a Foodie after all! Okay, nah. I’m not. I take crappy blurry photos with my iPhone and make a huge mess of the kitchen and occasionally burn things, spills things, and omit key ingredients… So I may not be a member of the Foodie club, but occasionally I like to share a recipe that works well for our family. These shareable edibles must be: fairly easy freezable or suitable for leftovers healthy-ish tasty budget friendly One of our family faves….a meal we enjoy at least twice a month is this Costa Rican Rice Bowl. A new favourite is Fresh Baja Fish Tacos (not to be confused with Bah ha Fish Tacos which are tacos made with clown fish…..sorry, a true Foodie would never make such a lame joke). I recently received this DELICIOUS cookbook called 200 Easy Mexican Recipes: Authentic Recipes From Burritos to Enchiladas by Kelley Cleary Coffeen. Along with the fish tacos I’ve also[…]

The trouble with having a child with an astounding threshold for pain is…they have an astounding threshold for pain. Sure, there are times like during vaccinations or minor scrapes and bumps when it comes in handy, but mostly it’s just scary. If my daughter should ever cry out in pain, we know it’s serious.* Take the time she sidled up to the gas fireplace. Though it had been turned off for some time, the glass was still very hot and she burned a loonie sized section of her calf. Even a tiny burn is agony for most, but she didn’t even feel it. A few days ago Avery seemed slightly under the weather — unusually tired and very pale. She had a low grade fever and not much of an appetite, but she didn’t complain. When she woke up the other morning, weeping, I knew something was wrong. She told me her neck hurt (I’m sure she meant her throat), and her tummy, and her ankle too. Who knew “the ankle bone was connected to the ear bone” because an hour later, her ear drum burst. Our doctor confirmed the yellow liquid oozing from her ear was the result of[…]

Bath time is sweet and peaceful at our house. Honestly, it’s one of the most treasured parts of the day. It’s also the time when my husband takes over. That’s right, he bathes our daughter while I surf the web, chat on the phone, paint my nails, help myself to seconds of dessert and cue up Blooper clips on You Tube. Yes, it’s a truly magical time. The other night as Avery splashed and I sloshed (my wine), my husband called me into the bathroom. “Lis, you have to come see this!” So I put my online Scrabble game on hold and put in an appearance. It was the least I could do. I did after all just eat the last ice cream bar. My husband’s ice cream bar. It was delicious. Aw… Avery was happily drawing on the tiled walls in the tub. It’s okay, she was using the soap crayons Santa brought her. Seriously fun for kids by the way. Those, and the spongy ABC letters that stick to the wall are fantastic. If you have an emergent speller, get some. They’re great. Just look at how hard she’s working. She even spelled her name. Amazing. Good, clean[…]